


Kylo Ren, or Good Conduct Well-Chastised

by CrownlessAgain



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bukkake, Come Inflation, Dehumanization, Dirty Talk, Gangbang, Humiliation, I am trash tbh, Knotting, M/M, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Public Sex, Slave Leia Outfit, Tentacle Sex, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrownlessAgain/pseuds/CrownlessAgain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The situation is almost poetic. Hux and Starkiller Base are gone, and Kylo Ren himself is stranded on some Outer Rim shithole with the very real prospect of starving to death."</p><p>This is, quite simply, a story about Kylo Ren being gangbanged by every alien I could think of. You have been warned. I am trash and so are you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kylo Ren, or Good Conduct Well-Chastised

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is a reference to Marquis de Sade. Fight me.

The worst thing about this idea is that it had come from General Hux.

"Fucking whore," he had purred as his hands and cock sent lightning racing along his lover's every nerve. "Bet I could make good money with this ass of yours. Leave you face-down in an Outer Rim bar and let anything fuck your hole for a credit. You'd like that wouldn't you, filthy slut?"

He could have torn Hux to pieces, but had chosen to scream his name instead. Their bedroom power exchanges had pleased Kylo, and probably Hux too, though that had never been much of a consideration for the knight. But now the situation is almost poetic. Hux and Starkiller Base are gone, and Kylo Ren himself is stranded on some Outer Rim shithole with the very real prospect of starving to death.

 For order to prevail, sacrifices must be made. Had his own grandfather not sacrificed everything most dear to him? Kylo Ren checks himself in the mirror, pressing on the latex that covers the scar crossing his face, pulling back his sand-colored hair to make sure that the black is not growing out at the roots. The credits in his strongbox will take him away from this planet one day, hopefully with weapons better than the shit the smugglers peddle. He claws at that hope as he walks to the nearest cantina and expresses his sincerest desire to work there.

Kylo is unsure which is more disgusting - the Hutt that prods him with its blubbery appendages, or the outfit he's given to wear. The thing is made of cheap glittery metal that wraps in swirls around his chest and hips, leaving his abdomen and shoulders bare. Some kind of red cloth is attached to the lower part of the outfit, forming a tunic with a high slit on either side. The whole affair falls somewhere between a Gungan and a Sarlacc on the list of things that Kylo Ren would normally find erotic.

 _This is a sacrifice,_ he tells himself as he leaves the servers' rooms. _The Force is on my side._ His heart thunders against his ribcage as he takes in the hideous forms that inhabit the cantina, all bulbous bodies and twisted limbs. The helmet of Darth Vader, more powerful in its ruined state than all the ships of the Resistance put together, looms in his mind. Perhaps, when all this is over, he might recover it.

Kylo is mostly ignored as he moves through the cantina, taking slow mincing steps to prevent his metallic get-up from falling off entirely. His eyes settle on the least repulsive patron - a Zabrak with copper skin and geometric tattoos who sits alone, sipping some vile concotion.

"Good evening, Sir," he says, perching on the Zabrak's table and trying to summon up a husky tone. "Five wupiupi for me to take this off."

The Zabrak's golden eyes crawl like beetles over Kylo's body, his handsome horned face unreadable.

"Nothing under there that I haven't seen before," he grunts, and points a clawed finger to his crotch. "I prefer your mouth."

"That will be ten-- _ah!_ " The Zabrak slaps Kylo across the face hard enough to bring him to his knees. He feels blood beading where a claw broke his skin, but the Force is right there at his fingertips. He is safe. This is a test; a sacrifice...

"Don't fuck with me. Scum like you suck cock for five."

 _One day you will burn,_ Kylo thinks as he unlaces the near-human's trousers. _One day I will drown you in fire and blood._ His customer's cock is already half-hard (thankfully humanoid if a little larger than normal), and as he presses his tongue to the tip and tastes the fluid there, he almost vomits. _Think of Hux._ No, that won't work, he can feel the air vibrating with his rage. There is nothing left to do but to bring the creature off quickly. He licks a line from the tip to the base, following the blue veins beneath salty copper skin, and is rewarded with a groan.

Fingers twist in his hair, stroking and tugging. The Zabrak must envy humans their luxurious hair, Kylo thinks as his head is pulled forward. His gag reflex protests, but those fingers pull more insistently until he has to choose between swallowing the Zabrak's cock or being scalped. At least this way he won't have to taste the alien's release. His nose presses against the hairless skin above the creature's member; the Zabrak groans louder and makes fists in Kylo's hair. Suddenly he's being tugged back and forth like a toy, his customer grunting as he fucks Kylo's mouth mercilessly.

The fear wells up again; Kylo finds himself unable to breathe or vomit, his throat clogged by the massive member and the viscous fluid seeping from it. Drool runs down his chin and drips to the floor; tears sting his eyes no matter how hard he tries to blink them away. And then, just as he's reaching for the Force, it's all over; the Zabrak tugs his cock from Kylo's mouth, and, groaning loudly, spends himself all over Kylo's face.

Cum sticks to his eyelashes and drips down his nose. Kylo feels numb. The Force retreats somewhere safe and hidden; the Zabrak's cruel laughter fills the world.

"What's that down there, Zur?" He hears a human voice, and shudders involuntarily before he remembers that no human would ever imagine Kylo Ren with cum all over his face.

"Some ugly slut. Charged me five wapiupi to sit with his mouth open and do nothing."

Strong hands lift Kylo to his feet. The face he finds himself staring into is youthful and somehow familiar.

"What's your name, whore?"

"Matt," says Kylo on some strange impulse, lifting a hand to wipe his face. The man laughs, slapping it away.

"I say, Matt, you're a dead ringer for Kylo Ren." Laughter erupts all around. There must be a much larger audience than Kylo had expected. "That's right, I served under him on Starkiller. Was a technician. I always thought he'd look good covered in spunk."

"I-I heard Kylo Ren was killed." _The best disguise is what you are._ It isn't even a lie; here is Matt the whore, not a Knight of Ren who can stop a blaster bolt in mid-air.

"How much to come on your face, Kylo Ren?"

"F-five..."

"Fuck that, I ain't got five." The human drops Kylo to the ground, where he sits, stunned and blinking at his surroundings. "You, Nautolan. You can have him. I'll watch."

The creature in question saunters forward, reaching out with his grey-green tentacles, caressing Kylo's face then wrapping around his neck and squeezing. Little lights play in the creature's inky eyes; its mouth curls into a smile. Kylo knows of the Nautolan language of pheromones; knows that the thing is feeding off his desire and humiliation.

" _No,"_ he whispers hoarsely as the tendril around his neck tightens, and another reaches for the clasp of his chest-piece. "Not... you..."

"Not him?" It's the human again. Kylo tries to recall his face, and whether he had ever had reason to force-choke him to death. "Picky for a whore, aren't we? I bet Kylo Ren wouldn't care who he took it up the ass from, poor sad virgin that he was. He'd fuck a Rancor, all right!"

More laughter. Sparks dance across Kylo's vision as shameful heat rises between his legs. _No, no, please, no, this is a sacrifice!_ Hux had choked him half to death once, and he had had the best orgasm of his life from it. The tentacle loosens and he swallows mouthfuls of air, trying to think of valour and victory and not how much he _needs_ this. The bit of metal around his chest drops to the floor with a clang, and all at once the Nautolan's tentacles are on his nipples, coaxing the small dark buds into hardness.

 _"_ Three... wupiupi," Kylo gasps, forcing himself to breathe.

The Nautolan's face is almost beautiful in its expression of ecstasy. Someone else slaps the money down on the table behind Kylo as the tentacles creep lower, counting his ribs, sliding up and down the muscles of his stomach which have clearly diminished from lack of food and exercise. The human makes use of the distraction to pinch one of Kylo's swollen nipples, and all the hatred and disgust in the Galaxy cannot prevent his eyes from rolling back now.

A crowd of creatures, mostly bizarre and inhuman, has gathered to watch Kylo's humiliation. Something tall and reptilian in its gait, dressed in robes of crimson and a striking mask, steps forward with a muffled laugh. Its black leather-clad hands snake beneath his arms and lift him onto the table as if he were no heavier than a child.

"Sidon Ithano," drawls the Zabrak. "How lovely of you to join us."

Kylo stares at the mask, finding comfort in its sleek design. Its owner seems to exude command. The Nautolan, not wanting to compete with such an individual, steps back timidly.

"What's this whore's name?" the masked creature asks, its voice soft and threatening. "I haven‘t seen this one before.

"Matt," says Kylo.

"Kylo Ren," says everyone else. More laughter.

The creature whose name is apparently Sidon grabs Kylo's thigh, stroking through the thin fabric. "How much for his ass?"

"Ten wupiupi."

"Bullshit," says the Zabrak. "He's not worth ten if his fucking is anything like his sucking."

"It's been long since I last fucked a human." The money is added to the pile. "Take that thing off. You there, Nautolan. Get him wet and ready."

Kylo wishes desperately for his fingers to stop trembling as he unfastens the metal clasps around his hips. _This is a test, be brave, make Grandfather proud!_ He pulls his underwear down quickly, hoping that the creatures won't notice the slick patch which is shameful evidence of his arousal. But of course he has no such luck - a squat Gabdorin with a peg leg sniggers crudely, and the Nautolan, bewitched by the smell of his desire, rubs its tendril in the fluid at the tip of his member and almost makes him fall apart right there.

"Enjoying your work, slut?" The Gabdorin steps forward, his rough hands spreading Kylo's thighs apart until he's splayed wantonly for all to see. The tentacle that had played with his cock bumps against his bruised red lips, seeking entrance. Kylo tastes himself on it, forgetting to feel ashamed.

"The hair between his legs is black!" The human is practically dancing with excitement. "I told you it's Kylo Ren! We could hand him in. We'd be fucking him for free, and making a profit too."

"Good service should never go unrewarded." Sidon slips off his glove, revealing a bony hand with trimmed claws. "Ready to fuck your way to freedom, _Kylo Ren_?"

 _They all know. They just don't care._ It's at this moment that Kylo feels something deep within him starting to break. Or perhaps starting is the wrong word; perhaps he was already broken when he walked into this godforsaken place. _Kylo Ren, Matt, whore... either way, I am nothing to them._

"Go ahead, Quiggold. I'm treating you and the crew tonight. You want him, have him."

Kylo swallows bile as the Gabdorin's stubby fingers breach his entrance. Instead of plunging deeper, they spread him apart in the most obscene way possible.

"I love humans," Quiggold breathes, his wide nostrils flaring. "Those soft, smooth skins and tight pink holes. May I, Sidon?"

"Let me prepare him for you. You won't get far with those big paws. Humans need a lighter touch to make them open up." And without further ado, two long fingers slip inside Kylo.

This is better, at least. Oh, this is _good._ He shudders, rocking his hips into the Delphidian's hand, his senses overcome by just how good those knotted digits feel inside him; by just how damned much he's missed this. The Nautolan is practically swooning with euphoria, all fourteen tentacles caressing Kylo's body, wrapping around his throat; trailing up his thighs and through the dark curls above his sex; flicking his nipples; parting his lips and playing with his tongue. And Sidon's fingers press ever deeper, curling against that spot that always drives Kylo insane with pleasure.

For just a second he tries to fight; tries to ignore the tendrils that work in tandem to pleasure him and the relentless curl of the fingers inside him. But it's all useless; the electric heat building inside him reaches a crescendo and he comes, clenching around the Delphidian's fingers, arching his back and writhing and moaning, those parts of his brain not yet broken by pleasure knowing that it would be good business practice to put on a show.

"This is how you make a human come, Quiggold." To Kylo's confused mind, Sidon's voice almost sounds gentle. "Male or female, they like it when you stick your fingers up their holes and rub their insides."

As Kylo comes down from his high, he notices several things. One, the pile of coins beside him has increased in size. Two, the Nautolan is gone, and he seems to have left behind a spurt of seed on Kylo's thigh. Three, a beaked Ishi Tib and a yellow-eyed Arcona stand on either side of him, pressing a slender green and a bulbous brown cock into his hands. He takes them without much hesitation, running the pads of his fingers along the slimy surfaces, working faster and faster until both creatures moan and rut against him.

"Never seen a whore come so fast," remarks the Zabrak. "Bet he hasn't had a good fuck in years, with what he charges."

"He's Kylo Ren, of course he hasn't had a good fuck in years." There goes the human again, but his words don't matter, nothing matters except for the money and the need to fuck and suck and swallow. "Nobody's good enough for him except for that piece of shit lightsaber. Tell us, Kylo, does it vibrate?"

Quiggold chuckles darkly, rests his wrinkled bulk on the table, and shoves his fat cock deep inside Kylo.

For a second Kylo has to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming. Too much, too fast, too full; he feels himself tearing but it's nothing, those ten wupiupi will get him hot meals and maybe a drink to forget it all. The Gabdorin's hands crawl like rats all over Kylo's body; his fat tongue lolls out of his wide frog-mouth as he loses himself in the pleasure. The force of his thrusts drives Kylo back across the table, and his cock burns as it's dragged back and forth along Kylo's bruised insides.

Someone pinches his arm; it's the Ishi Tib, his prick leaking all over Kylo's hand, demanding that the wretched human put in more effort for his money. Kylo grits his teeth, trying to meet Quiggold's thrusts while working both hands furiously, and is rewarded when the Ishi Tib and the Arcona come within a minute of each other, spraying Kylo with fountains of spunk.

The respite is short-lived, however. Something slick and salty bumps against his lips, and he looks up to find Sidon staring at him expectantly, his prick hanging out of his crimson robe.

Kylo takes the organ into his mouth, licking and sucking and trying his best to keep breathing against the pain between his legs that threatens to overwhelm him. Through the tears welling in his eyes he can see the human jerking off furiously, clearly aroused by the sight of Kylo Ren with an alien cock in every hole. It's not long before the human shouts "Take that, Kylo!" and spurts on his cheek.

"Fuck yes, little human, fuck that's good, keep going!" Obscenities tumble from behind Sidon's mask as he forces his cock so far down Kylo's throat, he's sure that his neck must be bulging. Quiggold seems to be nearing completion too, judging by his erratic thrusts. The pirate and his first mate come together, Sidon groaning and unloading several hot pulses down Kylo's throat while Quiggold roars and fills his belly with a massive load that burns like lava.

The two withdraw, leaving Kylo to stare, dazed, at the puddle of cum that leaks out from between his thighs and drips to the floor. Once more, and he'll have earned two truguts.

"Why am I always last?" The circle of aliens parts to allow a Gamorrean to pass. The green-skinned beast twitches his porcine snout, tasting Kylo's scent, his tusked mouth leering greedily.

"Get yourself a fresh whore if you want, Squeaky." Quiggold tucks himself back into his trousers with a satisfied sigh. "But you'll have missed out on fucking Kylo Ren."

"Don't care what he is as long as he gets my dick wet." The Gamorrean shrugs off his coat, revealing a massive flared erection. Kylo wonders dimly if he's allowed to close his eyes, but decides against it. _Be brave, be strong, be..._

The Gamorrean's cock enters him in one push; his sweaty yellow belly flops against Kylo as he grunts and squeals. It does not hurt half as much this time. Coins clink, and a bony finger taps against Kylo's chin. It's a Geonosian, the armor plates on his abdomen slowly retracting to reveal a cock similar in shape and color to a tongue. Kylo is shocked when it begins to writhe like the Nautolan's tentacles in his mouth, prodding at his teeth and cheeks before making its way down his throat.

The slime it exudes has a sweet musky taste. Kylo's limbs suddenly feel like cotton; heat curls deep in his belly in time with the Gamorrean's thrusts. He allows himself a soft moan as he sucks hungrily on the insect-prick in his mouth, to be rewarded with a clicking and whirring of wings.

Brilliant colors explode before Kylo's eyes, obscuring the cantina. He knows that there are more creatures jerking themselves off on him, but it doesn't matter, all that matters is the desperate need for _more._ When the Geonosian climaxes, its organ thrashing like an eel in Kylo's mouth, the bliss he feels is enough to make him forget why he's here. He comes for the second time that night, the clench of his thighs and inner muscles massaging the Gamorrean to completion.

"He lay under you like a corpse, but I made his little toes curl," the Gamorrean remarks to Quiggold as he fastens his coat. "Remember that next time you tell me I don't pull my weight 'round here."

After that, Kylo loses track of how many times his body is used. Coins form a bed of gold beneath his writhing body; spunk stains his hair and skin as he offers himself up to customer after customer. Something scrapes his inner thigh; when he looks down, it's a fucking tally chart, drawn on him by the human who evidently refuses to leave until the fun is over. He watches the dark lines increase in number with something that almost feels like pride.

Soon after that, the Hutts arrive. One of them fishes in its fleshy folds and draws out a cock wider than both Kylo's arms put together.

“Think you can take this, slut?” the Hutt sneers, wobbling with excitement to the very tip of its tail. “Bet my prick could pleasure your hungry hole like nothing you’ve ever had!”

The thing cannot possibly fit inside a human, so the Hutt instructs Kylo to wrap his thighs around it and ruts against his belly. Every time the Hutt thrusts, its beady eyes half-closed with contentment, Kylo’s body is brought into contact with its soft quivering bulk. The way his limbs sink in the sweaty blubber almost makes him sick. _Smile,_ a broken little voice inside him whispers. _You’re Kylo Ren. Fuck this Hutt with the dedication with which you’d rule the Galaxy. Who gives a shit which one you do? You certainly don’t._

As the Hutt’s massive organ slides squelching between his legs, it somehow seems to shape itself to embrace his sex. The slime it exudes cools the fire beneath his skin; for a ridiculous moment, Kylo thinks that this is what snail copulation must be like. And then the constant pressure is too much; he shouts and climaxes a third time, his over-sensitive body experiencing more pain and pleasure. The Hutt finds his reaction hilarious, its entire blubbery bulk shaking as it drenches him in fluids.

“I like this human.” Another mark is added to the tally. “The rest go around as if they own the galaxy, but this one knows its place.”

The next Hutt, which Kylo briefly thinks may be female, shoves the bottle from which it had been drinking into his sopping hole. The alcohol spills, searing Kylo's abused insides, but the rim scrapes over his prostate with each flick of the Hutt's wrist. Soon he's panting and moaning, feeling his fourth orgasm about to be forced out of him.

Then, just as he's sure that one more thrust will push him over the edge, the Hutt withdraws the now almost empty bottle. It tugs on a chain at its side and a nude Twi'lek appears. He's still almost a child; his flame-colored skin is patterned with goosebumps and his doe eyes stare at Kylo with the horror of someone witnessing the destruction of a star system. The Hutt pushes his head into Kylo's crotch, ordering him to drink if he's thirsty, and he shakes as his little pink tongue darts out to lap at the mixture of semen and alcohol between Kylo's thighs.

When he licks his lips and looks up at Kylo, his eyes carry no more fear or sympathy, only a deep and immeasurable disgust. And suddenly he cannot think or breathe; cannot do anything other than try to survive the despair that splits his heart apart like a blaster bolt for not only was that the last look his father had given him, it would surely be the look of everyone he had ever known and commanded if they saw him here like this...

Kylo Ren begins to cry.

He has to do it silently. His throat is much too sore to make any sounds.

"Oh dear, poor little Kylo is crying!" The man from Starkiller taunts as he shakes and sobs, snot and drool mingling with the patchwork of fluids that covers his skin. "Tell us, Kylo, did Granddaddy touch you like we've been doing?"

"Cheer up, slut, we're doing your poor starved little hole a favour!"

"You liked it well enough five minutes ago!"

One of the Hutts throws an arm over Kylo's heaving shoulders, its putrid breath wafting into his face.

"Listen here, little human, I've got a special friend to look after you. He's a big softie. He gets upset easily, and he tends to scratch when he's upset. So I suggest you pucker up, starshine!"

A series of growls and purrs breaks up the laughter, and a Wookiee lumbers into the circle. Kylo's heart hammers a march against his ribcage as he takes in its towering shaggy form. He has never imagined a Wookiee aroused before, and the sight is formidable. Two black testicles hang between its legs, and the glistening cock that protrudes from its furry sheath is at least as thick as Kylo's arm.

Kylo dashes the tears from his eyes and tries to put on a seductive smile, but it comes out dull and crooked. The Wookiee grunts expectantly; he spreads his legs and beckons.

"Are you as stupid as you are ugly?“ someone shouts from the crowd. "Wookiees do it on all fours. Every whore knows that!"

When Kylo tries to stand, his limbs give out. He collapses in a heap on the stained floor, suddenly aware of just how much everything hurts. But the Wookiee behind him is stamping impatiently, and besides those extra ten wupiupi might make the difference between skipping a meal and starving for days.

 _Once more,_ he tells himself as he rises onto all fours and wiggles his bruised rear. _Just once more, and then it's over, I can rest..._

His breath sticks in his throat as the head of that monstrous member pokes his thigh. Hairy hands slap his cheeks, spreading them apart and making them jiggle. He can imagine what he looks like back there, and so he doesn't blame the Wookiee when it grows bored and forces its way inside.

Kylo screams. Nothing he has ever taken can quite compare to this. He's dimly aware of scalding blood running down his legs, making the creature's fur stick to his skin. One thrust and he collapses, using the last of his strength to hold his hips in the air. _It could be worse. I'm safe..._

He reaches for the Force. It isn't there.

A rumbling sound, like a giant cat purring in contentment, emanates from the Wookiee's chest as it grasps Kylo's hips and forces him back and forth along its cock. And then Kylo's final torment descends upon him - he feels the base of the Wookiee's member swelling, stretching him well past his limit. He panics; another scream tears itself from his throat, leaving it so raw he's surprised he’s not choking on blood. _Ten wupiupi,_ echoes in his head as he tries to drag himself off the massive organ inside him. _Ten, ten, ten..._

He finds himself unable to move. The swelling holds him in place, and he realizes with a high despairing sob that until his customer decides that it's finished with him, the only way to escape will be to tear himself apart.

 _Grunt._ Strong paws bruise his hips. _Thrust. Growl._

“He says you’re awfully quiet, Kylo Ren!” The Hutt is clearly in on the joke too. “He’s starting to feel like he isn’t doing a good enough job. How heartless of you to make him feel that way, Kylo!”

“No, _please_ ,” Kylo chokes out. “It’s good, very good…”

“He’s given you his knot, and the best you can do is bleat like a dying Eopie? Pathetic!”

“It feels so good,” Kylo whimpers, grinding his hips against the Wookiee’s shaggy pelvis and swallowing the scream of pain and rage that threatens to find its way out. “Feels perfect, I _love_ it…”

“Pitiful!” It’s the human this time. “Where’s your skill at speeches! Tell him how he’s making you feel!”

“Feels so perfect. Feels _right_.” Kylo’s hand reaches beneath him to paw at his own over-stimulated cock. “I love your cock, Wookiee.”

 _Snarl._ Hips stuttering; muscles as big as pythons starting to tense. _Grr!_ Claws break skin, pushing, pulling, one last heave.

“Say that again, Kylo Ren! Tell the whole Galaxy how much you love cock!”

And Kylo Ren, powerless, Forceless, stripped of all that he once was and all that he could ever be, screams “I love cock!” over and over as one final orgasm scalds his nerves.

With a deafening roar the Wookiee finishes inside him, pumping a seemingly never-ending stream of seed into his bowels. The knot keeps him plugged up for about a minute; hairy hands reach around to pat his stomach, and he realizes for the first time that he looks just like a pregnant bitch from all the alien fluids inside him. The realization does nothing.

The Wookiee pulls out, its knot deflated, panting and grunting with satisfaction, and the other creatures take this as a cue to leave. One final barrage of insults, and Kylo Ren is free to collapse on the filthy floor, wrapping his arms around himself, closing his eyes against the bruises that blossom over his pale skin and the semen tinged pink by blood that runs down his thighs.

Something sparkles in his field of vision. He reaches for it with a cum-stained hand, and finds the cold smooth familiarity of a coin. There’s so many, he thinks blearily. Far too many to count now. He scoops the others off the table, delighting in the sound they make as they rush like a shining waterfall to the floor.

Kylo Ren may be naked and bloody and broken. But he’s been virtuous, so he sleeps on a bed of gold that night.

 


End file.
